


Into the Woods

by silver_drip



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes-centric, F/M, M/M, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/pseuds/silver_drip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve goes missing in Transylvania. Bucky goes after him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://tonysvandyke.tumblr.com/image/130917361586) drawing by [tonysvandyke](http://tonysvandyke.tumblr.com).

* * *

_Bucky,_

_Transylvania is even more beautiful than I imagined. I can’t wait for you to see all my sketches. Even though it’s a small country they have all sorts of landscapes._

_The taverns are different here than back home. They’re much more peaceful and I can actually draw in them without having to worry about someone spilling their beer on my sketchbook._

_It’s pretty chilly up here, but don’t worry, I’m wearing three layers when I go outside. I can still hear your scolding last time I caught a cold. I actually think the brisk air is good for my asthma. I was thinking about taking a stroll through the woods and see if anything inspires me to draw. The villagers have this almost funny paranoia of the woods. They think it’s haunted. I guess that’s what happens when someone live in a small village all their life. I’m not worried._

_Your Pal,_

_Steve G. Rogers_

* * *

Bucky gripped the letter, his eyes trailing over the words he’d read over and over again. It was the last correspondence he’d gotten from Steve. His letters usually arrived every three days, but had abruptly stopped just over a month ago.

Bucky had waited a week before he headed off to Transylvania. He knew he should have never let that punk travel on his own, but Steve had insisted he’d be fine and Bucky had been dumb enough to believe him.

At least he was finally arriving in the little village that the postage indicated the letter had been sent from. The sun was just starting to set.

He immediately spotted a small clinic and headed in its direction, dreading the worst, but hoping for the best. Maybe Steve had just broken a few fingers and couldn’t write—but he would have definitely had someone else write a message for him—

Bucky calmed himself down.

His energy could be better spent on figuring out where Steve disappeared to.

It was both a relief and disappointment when the village doctor did not recognize the picture of Steve that Bucky showed him.

He asked around, but no one seemed to recognize him.

He spotted a tavern and figured it was probably the best place to get information.

He glanced at the sign: The Shield Inn and Tavern

There was a cross hanging above the doorway.

Bucky was surprised by how few people were in the tavern, only four. Two men, both sitting in opposite corners, and two women, one in front of the bar and the other behind it.

His steps faltered when he saw the woman sitting at the bar. She was beautiful. Strawberry blonde hair, petite features… she almost glowed in the dim light of the tavern. He suspected that probably had something to do with the white dress she was wearing. It was in such contrast with the tavern, with the whole village. It was opulent.

Bucky came to the conclusion that she must be nobility that was passing through.

He went to the tavern bar and ordered a stout beer.

“Have you seen this man?” Bucky asked when she placed the drink in front of him. Her eyes were drawn to the photo Bucky was holding up, but she turned away from it.

“Sorry, haven’t seen him.” Her voice sounded… off.

“May I see the photo?” the woman in white asked. Bucky turned towards her and was stunned by her blue eyes. They actually were glowing—or was that a trick of the light?

A grumble far behind him pulled Bucky out of his wonder. He handed over the photo and took a sip of his beer.

“His name is Steve Rogers. He’s about this tall,” he indicated a head shorter than himself, “blonde with blue eyes—”

“He’s an artist, isn’t he?”

“Yes! Do you know where he is?”

“Don’t listen to her, kid!” one of the elderly men bellowed drunkenly at him.

“Fury!” The barkeeper shouted at him. “You know the rules! No being belligerent in my tavern. Besides, the sun is almost down. Shouldn’t you be home by now?” The old man glanced at the three of them in turn, sucking on his teeth before downing the rest of his drink and leaving, slamming the wooden door behind him. “Sorry about that.” The barkeeper laughed nervously before hurrying to clean the vacated table.

When he looked over at the woman in white she was frowning with an almost pitying look in her eyes as she stared at the door.

“Poor man. He’s been that way since he lost his wife to another woman. It was scandalous and now he hates all women.” She sighed. “Yes, I saw your friend a few weeks ago.” She stood up and pulled a small pouch of a purse from her side. It was just as white, but fringed in gold. He was surprised when she paid for both their drinks. “If you’d be so kind to escort me to the edge of town I can show you where I last saw him.”

“Of course.” He stood and offered his arm to her after she put on a cloak that looked like it wouldn’t do much to protect against the chill. They linked arms and he was surprised that he could feel her warmth even through his various layers of clothing.

The setting sun gave her an ethereal look.

Her pace was slow and he wanted to urge her forward, but knew doing so would be rude.

“He was carrying the strangest lantern. The glass was an odd shade, making the flame appear blue.” Darkness was starting to set in, with only a half moon to light the way. “He had a large pack and a sketchbook under his arm.” They came to a stop near the edge of the village. It was a thick swath of forest, with a cobblestone road cutting through it. It was a bit puzzling considering the rest of the village and the road he’d come in on were just dirt. “There is another inn about fifteen minutes down the path. I’d wager that’s where he went. The man who runs the place also keeps thorough books so you should be able to find if your friend stayed there or not.”

She nodded at him with a soft smile as she pulled away. With her absence came a chill.

“Would you like me to escort you back to the inn or elsewhere?” he asked, keeping up his manners despite feeling like he was about to jump out of his skin in excitement.

“No, I’m quite fine.”

She turned away from him and he watched her go. He realized he’d never introduced himself or caught her name, but she turned the corner before he could do so.

He looked back down the tree flanked road. It was dark, but the cobblestone road looked surprisingly smooth.

The woman in white said it was only a fifteen minute walk and Bucky knew he’d just be up all night thinking if he went back to The Shield to rest until daylight.

He started down the cobblestone road. The trees protected him from the wind.

The village quickly disappeared behind him and he checked to make sure his revolver was still at his side. Something about these woods set him on edge, made the bag on his shoulders feel heavier, and his breaths a bit shallower. Even his footsteps sounded strange.

“Damn it, Steve.”

Why did that punk always have to get himself into trouble?

The road was a winding one.

Icy nails clawed at the back of his neck and he whipped around, spinning again when he didn’t spot anyone. The feeling was still there though, grating at his skin. He slapped the back of his neck and felt a sharp sting before he grabbed the object attacking him.

It was a damn leaf.

“For fuck’s sake.” Bucky laughed at himself before realizing he didn’t know which direction on the road he’d been traveling. He was about to complain more to himself when a flicker to his right caught his attention. A blue light, deep in the woods. “Stevie?!” he called out, the incident with the leaf quickly forgotten.

The light was getting further away and it was suddenly all Bucky could see.

He ran after it, feeling branches tugging at his clothes and undergrowth tripping him up.

Steve seemed to be slipping through the trees easily, weaving between them and always making Bucky’s chest clench when the fire disappeared behind a tree.

“You idiot! Slow down!” That’s when Bucky stopped dead in his tracks. Steve had never been able to outrun him, especially not on rough terrain like this.

The light flickered out of existence, as if it had been just an illusion to begin with.

Bucky took a moment to catch his breath as he looked at the dense foliage around him. He couldn’t even see the sky, let alone any tracks he left behind.

He tried finding his way back, despite knowing he’d taken various turn.

He ran into a spider web and tried to get it off his face. He was definitely going in the wrong direction.

It would probably be best to just wait till morning before he continued his trek, but he was wide awake due to his unexpected jaunt through the woods.

He had to keep brushing aside spider webs, the further he walked (hopefully) towards the road.

Bucky squinted when through the dense woods he saw a cabin.

He was sure it wasn’t an illusion this time. He smiled in relief then spit out a spider web that had somehow gotten into his mouth.

The cabin was surprisingly large and he could see light flickering through the windows.

He brushed his hair back and tried to make himself look presentable before he knocked on the door.

After a moment a wiry blonde man opened the door.

“What are you doing out here so late?” he asked while ushering Bucky inside.

“I was an idiot and get myself lost,” Bucky said while plastering on his most bashful smile. He knew it made him look young and charming.

The other man made a clicking noise with his tongue that made his disapproval clear.

Bucky was lead to a sitting room.

In the light he could see that the man was shaking. He looked emaciated, yet his arms were well defined.

“The name’s Clint Barton,” he said once they were in a sitting room. He held out his hand and it looked brittle.

“James Barnes.” He shook his hand regardless. “Thank you so much for letting me into your home.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He glanced to the side then back to Bucky. “I need to tell my wife you’re here, otherwise she’ll come prance down here in hardly any clothes. It would be quite the sight for both of us, but one I’m not willing to share.” Clint winked at him before heading in the direction he’d been looking.

Bucky sat down while sighing. He rested his head on the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling.

He noticed a strange scraping and clicking noise from up above, but didn’t know what to make of it.

His adrenaline was starting to wear off and fatigue set in.

Clint reappeared a few minutes later, carrying a tray of tea. The surprisingly upscale set was clacking as Clint’s hands continued to shake. As he handed over the drink some of the tea sloshed over the side on onto the cup plate.

“Thank you,” Bucky said. Tea would do him some good.

“If you had just stayed on the road you would have reached the castle in no time,” Clint said before taking a sip of his own drink.

The clicking and scratching upstairs continued.

“What castle?” Bucky asked absentmindedly.

“That’s the only reason anyone comes near these woods, to visit the castle. It’s the largest castle in all Transylvania. Most people visit during the spring to see its sprawling gardens. This time of year people only go to see the architecture and the view from the highest tower. I’ve been told it’s breathtaking, even to die for.” Clint smiled strangely before taking a sip of his drink.

“I was actually out here looking for my friend.” Bucky set aside his tea and pulled out his photo of Steve. “He’s missing.” The noise upstairs grew louder for a moment and Bucky refrained from looking up. “He was last seen heading into the forest on the cobblestone road.”

Clint took the photo from him and Bucky briefly worried that his thin fingers would accidently pierce the photo.

“He looks a bit young to be out here on his own,” Clint observed while giving back the photo. Bucky chuckled.

“We’re surprisingly the same age. I just think he hasn’t hit puberty yet,” Bucky joked. Clint grinned and it struck Bucky as odd. Now that he was thinking of age he couldn’t really place Clint’s. His eyes and the way he held himself made him look like an old man, but there were no prominent lines on his face. He even dressed like a young man.

Bucky drank a bit of his tea, trying to distract himself.

Something felt… off, both in his head and in his surroundings.

“Steve probably did head for the castle. He’s an artist and—” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate. The noise above him seemed to just be getting louder.

“Go on.” Clint was smiling. His teeth looked grey.

“And…” He felt bile rising up for some reason. A moment later he was hunched forward, spewing out black vomit.

“That usually doesn’t happen,” Clint commented nonchalantly. “Natasha, our guest seems to be having an adverse reaction to your poison!” Clint shouted as Bucky scrambled for his pack and revolver. He stood up quickly and nearly fell back down.

Bucky shot through foggy eyes and Clint’s teacup exploded. Chunky black slime oozed over the porcelain fragments.

“What the—”

“Now would probably be the time to run.” Through his haze Bucky saw Clint wink at him.

Bucky tried taking aim at him again, but a stomach curdling hiss pierced his ears. He stumbled, knocking over almost everything in his wake. Sharp clicks like those of daggers being stabbed into wood were so close.

He threw open the front door, but stopped short. Thick spider webs were blocking his path. He backed up, refusing to see what could very well be his death, before shooting out the window panes beside the door. He didn’t bother knocking aside the shards of glass, merely throwing himself through it.

Glass dug into his skin, but his adrenaline and whatever was in that tea made it hard for him to feel anything but the earth beneath his feet.

There was another hiss as he entered the woods.

He fell to the ground and pushed the acidic bile out of his stomach, trying to clear his head. He was back on his feet a moment later, the clicking only growing louder.

Strands of spider webs tugged at him, making every step harder than the last, but he had to make it, he had to find Stevie and get him out of this horrible place.

He wasn’t sure if it was the poison or the panic, but the rhythmic clicking was getting closer.

Bucky swung around, revolver at the ready. A large figure and red eyes caught his attention. He fired off two shots, but the monster leapt into the treetops, dodging his bullets.

He almost ran into a tree as he turned back around. A spider web got into his mouth and he nearly choked on it.

A dark feminine chuckle gave him the chills.

Leaves fell down above him, _it_ was above him, and any second now it would pounce down and tear him to shreds.

But then the spider webs and trees started thinning. He caught sight of the half-moon in the sky.

Something caught his foot and he went tumbling forward and out of the forest. He rolled head over heel down a slope before landing in soft mud.

He was gasping for air as he propped himself up and aimed his revolver at the forest.

Glowing red eyes seemed to blur as the creature swayed back and forth, never leaving the forest.

“Lucky boy,” the creature taunted. Her voice seemed to promise a slow death. Bucky pulled the trigger, but his revolver wouldn’t fire. His eyes flickered to it and then back to the red eyes. His revolver was slathered in putrid mud. “Quite the shame you’re out of my hunting grounds. Try going back to the village and you’ll be mine.”

The red eyed creature retreated into the woods, but Bucky was certain she was still watching him.

Bucky took a moment to catch his breath as he tried to wipe the mud off his revolver. It would be useless until the barrel was properly cleaned. He only had two shots left anyway, considering he’d lost his bag somewhere in the woods.

When his breathing evened out again he took a moment to look at his surroundings. His heart froze. He was surrounded by countless dead bodies, all in different stages of decomposition.

He held back his vomit while scrambling out of the ravine. His fingers dug into things he’d rather not contemplate.

When he reached the top he finally let out what little was left of the contents of his stomach.

This couldn’t be happening. It just wasn’t possible.

Bucky squeezed his eyes together, tears streaming down his face.

“Damn it, Steve.” How did he always get himself into the worst situations? Normally Bucky was confident he could save him, but this was something he’d never faced before.

“There’s a creek just up ahead if you’d like to wash off.” Bucky’s head lurched up, searching for the source of the calm voice. When he saw it was the woman in white he immediately bolted forward.

“You fucking bitch!” He aimed a punch at her, but before it landed there was flicker of light and he almost fell back to the ground when his punch didn’t land. She was far ahead of him again, but looked like she hadn’t moved an inch.

“Your artist friend is a guest at the castle.” She turned to the side and looked in the distance. Bucky spotted the looming castle. “He’s sleeping right now, but if you follow this footpath it will lead you to a stream and the castle.”

“And why should I trust you?” Bucky snarled out.

“You have no reason to.” She shrugged in a dainty fashion and once again Bucky thought she was glowing, if only for a flicker. “You shan’t encounter anyone or anything in these woods.” Bucky looked at the dirt path. The trees surrounding it were far less dense than the ones he’d just escaped. “Save your friend or not. It really doesn’t matter to me.”

“I should kill you,” Bucky said, baring his teeth.

“I’ve never killed a single person in my life. I merely… show them different paths.” The woman in white smiled and it occurred to Bucky that it was the first genuine look he’d ever seen on her. “The decision is yours.”

There was another flash of light and she was gone.

“This is so fucked up.” Bucky holstered his revolver again, trying not to think about the grime coating his skin or its smell.

He knew he couldn’t turn back now, not with the castle in sight.

He took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

The footpath did look clear and it had far better lighting since all the leaves had already fallen.

He took an apprehensive step on the narrow dirt road, half expecting his leg to be cut off in an instant. When nothing happened he chuckled in relief.

There were very few leaves on the path and it looked like they had almost been swept away recently.

Ten minutes into his walk he spotted a small stone bridge with a creek flowing beneath it. He stumbled to the water, eager to get rid of the filth from the mass grave.

The water was freezing and Bucky didn’t look at his reflection as he washed his hands, not wanting to see how much of the putrefied mud had gotten onto his face.

Even in the dim moonlight he could see the dark grime being carried away by the stream.

There was a loud creaking and Bucky froze in place. Without moving he took in his surroundings and let out an exasperated sigh when he saw that it was just a branch bending in the wind.

Once he was certain his hands and fingernails were clean he pursed his lips inwards and tightly closed his eyes before just dunking his head into the water and scrubbing it until he couldn’t hold his breath any longer. He came up for air before repeating the process.

A flash of light that even made it through the water and his closed eyes had him sitting bolt upright in a second.

There was a perfectly white handkerchief on the ledge of the bridge. He stood up to examine it. Embroidered in a gold were the initials V. P.

This place really was haunted.

It was almost funny, how fucked up everything was.

He took the handkerchief and wiped his face off, doubting that it was some sort of trap. It smelled faintly of ash. He left it on the ledge before going back to the stream to clean his revolver and holster. He doubted that it would work even with a washing, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to try to turn this nightmare a little less hopeless.

Bucky left the handkerchief where he’d found it.

The strange creaking seemed to grow more persistent, making Bucky qiucken his pace. The wind had picked up and the mud caked onto him was quickly turning to dirt, thankfully falling off in clumps.

His teeth were chattering by the time he exited the woods. A black metal fence with spiked posts made it impossible to climb over it.

The dirt path led to his left and he had no choice but to follow it.

Clouds were shifting overhead, making things seem even more eerie, if that was even possible.

Bucky ducked his head down when he spotted the cobblestone road that he’d originally been on. If he’d just not followed that light into the woods…

The large gates were almost disappointing compared to the trek he’d just been on. It looked plain, with only a strange circle with a downwards pointing triangle in it. The circle did have golden looking horns that acted as handles.

The gates were surprisingly easy to open.

There were flowers, many of which he hadn’t seen before and probably shouldn’t be able to survive with winter almost upon them.

The shifting clouds cast strange shadows on the various sculptures.

A loud groan made Bucky tense up. He wheeled around, looking for the source.

Right by the gates there was a lurking figure. It pushed itself off the ground. The clouds parted and Bucky gagged. The monster’s skin was rotting and falling off. There was a large hammer in its hand. It shut the gates before turning towards Bucky.

“This way,” a male voice called from behind him. Bucky turned around and spotted an average looking man slipping out of a hammock. “He won’t attack you if you don’t look at it or try to leave.” Bucky glanced back at the monster. It took a step forward and Bucky turned his head away from the creature.

He’d take the innocuous looking man over the decaying monster any day, despite having learned that looks could be deceiving.

The man with brown hair was waving him forward. Bucky jogged over, just wanting to find Steve and go home.

“Who are you?” Bucky asked, too tired to be polite.

“Bruce. I’m the groundskeeper.”

“And what the hell is that.” Bucky pointed backwards, not daring to look.

“The gatekeeper. It has no name.” Bruce smiled sadly.

“Please tell me you’re not another one of these monsters.”

“Wish I could. I’m no harm to you right now though.” Bruce glanced up and Bucky didn’t believe him. “What brings you here, especially this late at night?”

“My friend’s missing. I was told he’s here.”

“The artist?” Bruce asked while raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! Have you seen him?” Bucky felt reenergize at just the mention of his friend.

“I never enter the castle, but he did come here a few weeks ago. Jarvis said he’s staying here.”

“Jarvis?”

“The butler. He maintains the castle and… looks after me.” Bruce sighed, his eyes becoming tired and distant. “I don’t know where I’d be without him, without them.”

“Who else lives here?”

“Master Anthony and Master Loki. Lady Potts on occasions spends the night.” Bruce’s expression was unreadable. “I’m not supposed to say much else. You should be on your way. Lingering with the gatekeeper around is not wise.”

Bucky took in a slow breath, looking over at the ominous stairs that led to the castle doors. They were wide and flanked by ugly gargoyles, some of which looked like they had blood on their teeth and claws. He started ascending the stairs and could feel their eyes on him.

There was a large doorknocker. It was the same design he had seen on the gates. He gave it three firm knocks and the door opened on its own.

Bucky wasn’t surprised. He doubted anything would surprise him anymore.

“Welcome, Mr. Barnes. I am Edwin Jarvis, the butler of this establishment.”

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked while marching up to him, intent on grabbing his lapel and shaking the answer out of him. Jarvis didn’t move as Bucky’s hand went straight through him. His hand and arm felt like it was encased in cold slime. He quickly retracted his limb, but the feeling remained.

“Mr. Rogers has just awoken. The masters have just sat down for dinner and Mr. Rogers shall be joining them shortly.” Jarvis turned away from him. “If you would be so kind as to follow me to the grand dining room.”

Bucky grit his teeth, knowing he had no choice. It could take him ages to explore a place as large as this.

Jarvis’ footsteps made no noise and it was almost as unsettling as the creaking of the trees earlier.

The hallways were opulent and Bucky felt a bit vindictive, dragging his dirty boots on the plush red carpet. There were plenty of paintings on the walls, all depicting the same two characters. One was tall and regal while the other was shorter and looked almost devious. Bucky had to look away at a few of the paintings since they were quite graphic. So the pair was _that_ kind of couple. And they flaunted it quite openly.

Two mahogany doors opened of their own volition.

The pair were sitting at the head of the table, the taller of the two in the others lap.

“James Barnes! Our most honored of guest!” the shorter of the two said.

“Where is Steve?” Bucky asked, cutting through the bullshit.

“Why he’s taking a rest!” the other said, quite cheerily. His teeth glinted white, making Bucky gulp uncomfortably.

“Actually, Masters, he has just awoken. I shall see to his needs.” Jarvis bowed at them before exiting from a different door.

“Take a seat, take a seat!”

“Yes, you mustn’t stay on your feet!”

Bucky could already tell that the pair was ludicrous, but also dangerous.

“We haven’t introduced ourselves!” One gasped. “How rude of us!”

“Oh lover, don’t make such a fuss!” The raven haired man looked over at Bucky. “I am Loki and this is Tony.”

“Sit! Don’t make us plea!” Tony said with a flourish of his hand.

Bucky stood firmly, not doing anything until he saw Steve.

Loki suddenly disappeared and Bucky felt cold, boney fingers on his shoulders.

“I must insist,” Loki whispered into his ears, fingers digging into Bucky’s shoulders. He was pushed toward one of the chairs and Loki was seated in Tony’s lap again, as if he hadn’t moved at all.

“Lover, I must ask you to desist. You know I hate when you touch another.”

“You are such a bother.” Despite his words Loki started laying kisses on Tony’s neck.

Tony motioned to one of the chairs with glinting eyes and Bucky felt a strange compulsion to take it. His feet moved without his permission until he was seated to their immediate left.

The door Jarvis had exited through opened and Bucky was standing in an instant, knocking back his chair.

Jarvis had two trays in his hands and Bucky was about to shout at him, until he spotted Steve.

He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Steve had always looked thin, but now he looked completely drained, like he was seconds away from collapsing.

“Stevie!” His best friend looked up at him with listless eyes.

“Bucky… what are you doing here?” Instead of the panic and fear he expected to see in Steve’s eyes… he was just blank.

“I came to get you! You’ve been missing for weeks!”

“But it’s only been a few days,” Steve said while dragging his feet towards the table. He had a small furrow on his brow and his sketchbook under his arm.

“We have to get out of here. These people are monsters.”

“Rude,” Tony said under his breath.

“We’re even offering you all food.” The pair huffed in unison and Bucky felt sick as he saw Tony slip his hand under Loki’s button up shirt.

“But I’m hungry,” Steve said, as if he hadn’t heard their demented hosts.

A tray was set in front of Steve’s seat and another in front of Bucky’s.

Steve looked like he was in a daze as he sat down.

“Wonderful!”

“Spectacular!”

Bucky kept standing for a few more minutes before relenting.

The food really did look mouthwatering.

“Is it poisoned?” Bucky asked.

“I wish his accusations would relent.”

“He must have ran in to Natasha and Clint.”

“Oh, they’re a lovely pair.”

“And Natasha has quite the flair.”

“She definitely knows how to hunt.”

“Too bad she can be quite the—”

“Blunt! She’s a blunt lady,” Loki said and Tony snorted.

“Maybe.”

“Give me back Steve,” Bucky said, annoyed by their antics.

“But he’s such a great artist.”

“And would be dearly missed.”

Bucky glanced at Steve, wishing he would say something. His eyes were firmly focused on his sketchbook though. It was a half-finished drawing of Tony and Loki.

“What did you do to him?” Bucky whispered, feeling shaky.

“Steven, eat your meal.”

“It’s veal.” Steve set aside his sketchbook and picked up his fork and knife, cutting away at the meat mindlessly.

“Steve hates veal, now answer my question.”

“Steven loves to create.”

“Yes, it was almost fate—”

“That he’d show up at our door.”

“Willing and poor.”

“We pay him well.”

“So your dark thoughts needn’t dwell.”

“There’s no need to fret.”

“He’s just our cherished pet.”

“You’re sick!” Bucky cut in.

“We can’t deny that!”

“My lovely bat.” Loki turned slightly towards Tony as he picked up one of the strange cup that were sitting in front of them. It was circular and was cradled above a warm flame. Loki gave the rounded cup to Tony who took a sip before handing it back to Loki. He drank more languidly, a thin line of red escaping his lips. Bucky cringed as Tony openly licked the line before their lips joined and they kissed deeply.

Bucky looked away from them and back to Steve. He had abandoned his food and had started a new drawing of their demented hosts kissing.

“What the hell are you doing,” Bucky hissed at him.

“They’re just… so beautiful. I don’t think I could draw or paint anything else, not after them.” Steve’s eyes were foggy.

“We have to get out of here.” Bucky stood back up and rounded the table, intent on dragging Steve away. Before he reached him two pairs of hands were locked onto his arms, gripping him painfully.

“I’m afraid you cannot leave.”

“Especially not with Steve.”

Bucky was suddenly slammed into a stonewall and turned till he was facing them.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Loki asked while staring at his lover.

“Only if it’s about drinking.” Tony replied and a moment later both their fangs were in either side of Bucky’s neck. He tried fighting them off, but they were so strong and his vision was fading.

The last thing he saw was Steve flipping the page of his sketchbook and starting to draw the scene.

**Author's Note:**

> Gold star to anyone who figures out what each character was. Clint was just cursed, btw. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
